The Barber's Touch
by depp's illusions
Summary: A slash-fic inspired by TeenySweeney's book 'My Cutthroat Romance'. The story is a Sweeney Todd/Gerard Way slash. There will be MATURE SCENES so if you feel a little awkward or uncomfortable, don't read it! This book will also contain VIOLENCE, of course. [It is Sweeney Todd we're talking about over here XD] Enjoy! xoxo
1. Chapter 1

"I have sailed the world beheld its wonders from the Dardanelles to the mountains of Peru, but there's no place like London!" A sailor named Anthony Hope sang.

"No there's no place like London..." Another man sang rather bitterly.

"Mr. Todd?" Anthony spoke in a concerned tone.

He was always cautious of how he spoke to Mr. Todd because he knew that the man was as sensitive as a flower petal. One wrong sentence and Mr. Todd would have a bitch-fit. But it was not his fault. He always seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

"You are young, life has been kind to you...You will learn..." Mr. Todd sang.

The man slowly made his way to the very front of the boat as he stared at the buildings ahead of the ship.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit and it goes by the name of London. At the top of the hole sit a privileged few making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed...I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders. For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru. But there's no place like London!" Todd sang.

The ship soon docked and Anthony joined Mr. Todd in climbing off the boat after a rather long journey. Dark clouds painted the sky indicating it was nighttime and all of London was asleep. Well, almost all of London. You could never say all of _Whitechapel_ was asleep at night, because it was not true. Not with all the whores and unfortunates lurking around at night. Although their job was coming to an end for the night seeing as though the sun was about to rise for another _wonderful_ day in London.

The tormented barber looked around, frowning as he walked forwards a little. All the memories were back in his mind, the memories of his past life. He was living in the past, not able to move on. It was all a big shock to him honestly. One moment he was enjoying spending time with his Lucy and their baby girl Johanna, the next he was being dragged away by officers before being cast away to prison in Australia on a false charge!

"Is everything alright Mr. Todd?" Anthony asked quietly, snapping Todd out of his thoughts.

"I beg your indulgence Anthony. My mind is far from missing. And in these once familiar streets I feel...Shadows, everywhere..." The barber spoke quietly and softly.

"Shadows?" Anthony asked confusedly.

"Ghosts..." He whispered.

Taking a few steps forward, the barber began to tell his tale;

"There was a barber and his wife, and she was beautiful. A _foolish_ barber and his wife. She was his reason and his life and she was beautiful... And she was virtuous. And he was...Naïve..." The barber began. "There was another man who saw that she was beautiful...A pious vulture of the law who with a gesture of his claw removed the barber from his plate...Then there was nothing but to wait! And she would fall so soft, so young, so lost and oh so beautiful!" The older man sang, his voice breaking at the very end.

"And the lady sir, did she succumb?" Anthony asked, fully engaged in Sweeney's singing.

"Oh that was many years ago...I doubt if anyone would know..." Todd replied. "I'd like to thank you Anthony. If you hadn't spotted me, I'd me lost on the ocean still." The barber said casually.

"Will I see you again?" Anthony asked.

"You might find me if you like, around Fleet Street I wouldn't wonder." Mr. Todd replied.

"Until then my friend."

The young sailor held his hand out, but dropped it when Mr. Todd started walking away carelessly.

 _'Trapped in his own little world'_ Anthony thought as he shook his head.

As Mr. Todd made his way through various alleyways, his mouth muttered his thoughts of London;

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it..."

As he turned a corner, his gaze fell upon Mrs. Lovett's old-looking meat pie shop. But then again, it was old. After almost 15 years of business. By the looks of it now, business needed a huge lift.

The barber calmly crossed the street before reaching for the handle on the shop's door. Slowly turning it, he stepped into the dusty shop, seeing a woman behind the counter.

"Gerard, come quick! A customer!" The woman gasped.

Suddenly, a young lad appeared from the living room, staring at his mother before looking over at Mr. Todd who slowly began backing out of the shop. Once the younger man noticed this, he started to sing;

"Wait! What's your rush? What's your hurry? You gave me such a, fright I thought you was a ghost. Half a minute can't you sit?" The boy sang, walking over to Todd before tapping him on the shoulders, encouraging him to sit down. "Sit you down, sit! All I meant is that we haven't seen a customer for weeks. Did you come here for a pie sir? Do forgive me if me head's a little vague."

"Eh, what was that?" Mrs. Lovett cut in, grabbing a bug before stepping on it behind the counter.

"But you'd think we had the plague, from the way that people, keep avoiding." Gerard continued.

"No you don't!" His mother cut in again, hitting a bug on the countertop with her rolling pin.

"Heaven knows we try, sir! But there's no one comes in even to inhale. Right you are sir, would you like a drop of ale?" Gerard asked while his mother served Sweeney a pie and ale.

"Mind you I can hardly blame them! These are probably the worst pies in London! I know why nobody cares to take them, I should know, I make them, but good, no! The worst pies in London!" The young man continued.

"Even that's polite, the worst pies in London! If you doubt it take a bite..." Mrs. Lovett joined in.

Both Gerard and his mother watched the older man take a bite from the mouldy old pie that was served to him. His expression became one of complete disgust attempting to be hidden, yet Gerard could still tell Sweeney was close to puking at the taste by the way he stopped chewing as he waited for the right moment to spit the bite of pie out. Gerard turned to look at Mrs. Lovett, and she did the same. In that moment, Sweeney slightly turned his head and spat the pie in his mouth out, turning back to face Mrs. Lovett and her son as they continued to sing. This time, it was Gerard's mother's turn;

"Is that just disgusting? You have to concede it. It's nothing but crusting. Here drink this, you'll need it! The worst pies in London!" Mrs. Lovett sang. "And no wonder with the price of meat, what it is, when you get it. Never thought I'd live to see the day. Men they'd think it was a treat, finding poor, animals, what are dying in the street."

"Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop! Does a business but I notice something weird. Lately all her neighbour's cats have disappeared. Have to hand it to her! What I calls, enterprise, poppin' pussies into pies!" As Mrs. Lovett sang, Sweeney had opened his mouth to speak up but after that last sentence, he decided not to. "Wouldn't do in my shop. Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick. And I'm telling you them pussycats is quick!"

Gerard grinned as he leaned against the doorframe crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"No denying times is hard, sir! Even harder than the worst pies in London! Only lard and nothing more. Is that just revolting? All greasy and gritty. It looks like it's molting, and tastes like...Well pity, the two of us alone. With limited wind. And the worst pies in London!" The baker sang rather loudly.

"Ah, sir, times is hard. Times is hard!" Gerard cut in, watching his mother squash another bug with her rolling pin.

The confused and irritated barber looked at Gerard before looking over at Mrs. Lovett as she spoke softly;

"Good thing I've got my boy to help me out 'round the shop. That's my son, that is. Gerard. Takes after me, he does. Always a bit distracted and sometimes daydreaming." Nellie said with a smile.

The barber only glanced at the baker once as she looked over at her son standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room smiling shyly.


	2. Chapter 2

"Trust me, it's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash that taste out. Come on, we'll give you a nice tumbler of gin."

Mr. Todd hesitated before slowly standing up as he was beckoned to follow Gerard into the living room. Mrs. Lovett smiled as she followed the barber and her son.

"Make yourself comfortable." Gerard told the older man as he searched through various cupboards for the bottle of gin.

"If times are so hard, why don't you rent the room above the shop?"

"Up there? Nah, no one'll go near it. People think it's haunted." Gerard replied.

"Haunted?" The barber repeated.

"Yeah. You see, years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice."

"What happened? And what are you lookin' for love?" Mrs. Lovett asked as she entered the room.

"Oh, I was telling Mr. Todd here that nobody would go near the room upstairs because they think it's haunted. And I'm looking for the gin, I can't find it." Gerard replied.

"It's on the top shelf dearie."

"Thanks."

Mrs. Lovett sighed before turning to Mr. Todd who looked deeply lost in his thoughts as he stared down at the floor. She took a seat next to him and began singing;

"There was a barber and his wife, and he was beautiful. A proper artist with a knife, but they transported him for life, and he was beautiful!"

"Barker his name was. Benjamin Barker." She spoke.

"What was his crime?" The barber asked curiously.

 _"Foolishness..."_ Nellie sighed.

Gerard reached for a glass beside the cupboard but accidentally knocked it off watching it smash into pieces, startling both his mother and the already traumatised barber.

"Sorry, clumsy me."

Mr. Todd raised both his eyebrows in reaction, watching the boy pick up the shards of glass.

"He had this wife, you see. Pretty little thing, silly like nit, had her chance for the moon on a string. Poor thing! Poor thing!" Nellie continued. "There was this judge, you see. Wanted her like mad. Everyday he sent her a flower. But did she come down from her tower? Sat up there and sulked by the hour. Poor fool! Ah but there was worse yet to come, poor thing."

Gerard himself listened intently to his mother's story. He had heard it not so long ago.

"Well Beadle calls on her all polite. Poor thing! Poor thing! The judge, he tells her is all contrite, he blames himself for her dreadful plight. She must come straight to his house tonight! Poor thing! Poor thing! Of course when she goes there, poor thing, poor thing, they're having this ball all in masks. There's no one she knows there, poor dear, poor thing. She wanders tormented and drinks, poor thing. The judge has repented she thinks, poor thing. 'Oh where is Judge Turpin?' She asks. He was there alright, only not so contrite!" The baker sang in a tone of warning.

Before she could continue, Gerard cut in;

"She wasn't no match for such craft, you see, and everyone thought it so droll. They figured she had to be daft, you see, so all of them stood there and laughed, you see. Poor soul! Poor thing!"

"NO! Would no one...have mercy on her?" The barber whispered.

"So it is you." Mrs. Lovett whispered back.

"Benjamin Barker." Gerard quietly muttered.

"Where's Lucy? Where is my wife?"

"She poisoned herself. Arsenic from the apostle round the corner. Tried to stop her, I did. But she wouldn't listen to me." The baker explained. "And he's got your daughter."

"Adopted her like his own." Gerard added.

"He? Judge Turpin...Fifteen years, sweating in a living hell on a false charge." Todd threw his heavy leather jacket in the corner. "Fifteen years, dreaming I might come home to a wife and child..."

"Well I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you Mr. Barker." Mrs. Lovett muttered.

"No. Not Barker. It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd. And he will have his revenge." Sweeney said turning to face the baker.

The woman turned to look over at her son who was staring at Todd in astonishment. She slowly made her way towards him;

"Gerard, be a dearie and take Mr. T to the room upstairs. And don't forget to give him his razors back." She whispered.

"Right."

"Good lad." She patted his shoulder.

"Mr. Todd, mind following me?" Gerard asked.

Sweeney gazed over at Mrs. Lovett before looking over at Gerard who was already at the doorway. He nodded slightly before following the boy out of the living room and out the shop. The both of them walked up the stairs towards the room above the meat pie shop. Gerard slowly opened the door before walking in.

"Come in. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Sweeney hesitated slightly before stepping into the dusty old room quietly; He looked around, walking over to an old cot where his dear Johanna used to sleep. There was a dirty sheet covering it which he lifted to reveal Johanna's old dolly. While he explored the room, Gerard kneeled down searching for a loose floorboard which he soon lifted and placed aside. Hearing this, Sweeney turned around slowly before walking over to where Gerard was. He crouched down opposite of the young lad holding a dusty velvet red box.

"I believe these are yours." Gerard handed the box to the troubled barber.

Todd slowly and cautiously lifted the lid to reveal his shiny treasured possessions. He simply could not believe that he had once again laid eyes on utter perfection. Gerard watched the barber's pale hand reach for one of his silver perfections before carefully pulling one out, almost as if he were scared they would evaporate and vanish into the air under his touch.

"Those handles are chased silver ain't they?" Gerard stared at the razor in the other man's hand.

"Silver...yes..." Todd whispered back.

Sweeney set the box aside not looking away from his shiny friend.

"These are my friends..." He said softly, twirling the razor in his hand.

Gerard soon found himself in an awkward position, listening to the barber muttering about how beautiful his priceless razors were as they smiled in the light.


	3. Chapter 3

Intrigued by Mr. Todd's singing, Gerard joined in feebly once he saw his chance;

"I'm your friend too, Mr. Todd." He sang softly but was not acknowledged by the barber. "You can move up here, Mr. Todd. It'll be great to have some company. It would be a great change."

Seeing Gerard's reflection in his glimmering razor, Todd spoke in a whisper;

"Leave me."

Without another word, Gerard slowly pulled himself off the ground. He walked out of the shop and rushed down the stairs towards his mother.

"Hello love, how's Mr. T doin' up there?" She asked.

"He seems to be completely and utterly obsessed with his razors. Hardly noticed me once he laid eyes on them for the first time in 15 long years." Gerard replied.

"You can't blame him. He has been through some tough times dearie. Like I said, the years haven't been particularly kind to him."

"Yeah. His razors are his only friends now."

"That's not true. What about us then, eh?"

"Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you mum but it seems as though Mr. Todd doesn't really give a crap about other people. Right now he is too preoccupied by his need to kill the bloody judge and Beadle." Gerard sighed exasperatedly.

"Gerard! I don't want to hear that kind of language in this building or anywhere!"

Gerard stared down at the floor. _'If only she knew.'_ He thought. The baker sighed as she stared at her young son.

"Why don't you tell me where you wanna go for your birthday, then." She said softly.

"Ten Bells."

"Gerard!"

"Sorry mum."

To Mrs. Lovett, he didn't sound very sorry. In fact, he sounded very genuine about his request which scared her. ' _Ten Bells, eh? Oh dearie, what are you turnin' into?_ ' She thought.

"What would you be doin' down at Ten Bells?" She asked trying to hide her concerned tone.

"I don't know. Catch up with Mary Kelly. Have a drink. Chit chat. That sort of thing."

"Mary Kelly?! That Whitechapel whore?! What do you want with her?!" Mrs. Lovett yelled.

"I'll have you know she is a lovely friend of mine. And it's not her fault she's a whore. She's poor. She needs the money." Gerard sighed.

Mrs. Lovett shook her head. What was her son turning into? She would never have dreamed that he would become friends with the prostitutes of Whitechapel. Then an idea struck her. An idea she didn't particularly like the sound of, but she was desperate.

"What about you?"

"What about me? What do you mean?" Gerard asked confusedly.

"Are you willing to give it a try?"

Gerard stared at his mother in disbelief. She wasn't asking the one thing he feared of him, was she? _To be a whore?_

"Give what a try?!" Gerard raised his voice.

"Calm down love. It's alright. We'll get our hands on money another way if we have to. It's alright."

"You wanted me to earn money by being a whore, didn't you?"

Silence swallowed the room as Gerard collapsed into a seat. His eyes were wide. _'Mum would never ask me to do such a thing.'_ He thought. _'So what's up with her now?'_ He mentally asked himself.

The woman sighed heavily. She was embarrassed of the fact that she asked her son to be a whore.

Suddenly, the barber burst into the shop looking like he needed something.

"What's the matter dear?" Nellie asked the older man.

"A chair."

"Sorry?"

"A chair." He spoke a little louder.

"Oh! Gerard, go fetch your dad's old chair and help Mr. T carry it up to his shop." The baker told her son.

Gerard simply nodded once before standing up, beckoning Todd to follow. Both men made their way into the living room.

"Here it is. It's a simple old thing." Gerard said quietly.

"It'll do."

Gerard looked up at the barber who grabbed one arm of the chair before looking up at Gerard as if expecting him to do something. The younger man grabbed the other arm of the chair and lifted it, helping Todd through the journey from the living room to the stairs leading up to the older man's shop.

"This is going to be a pain." Gerard muttered under his breath.

Sweeney looked over at Gerard who looked back.

"You ready?" Gerard asked.

The barber chose to ignore the question and lifted the chair as he watched the boy lift it by its other arm and slowly walk backwards up the stairs with it. Gerard was cautious how and where he stepped just to make sure that wouldn't be the day he died. He frequently stole glances at the barber who was too busy paying attention where he was stepping. Once they had reached the top of the stairs, it was a relief for them both. Gerard panted as he helped Mr. Todd carry the chair into the centre of his shop.

"You alright?" Todd asked.

"Yeah. Fine. You?"

"I'm alright. I appreciate your concern. And your favour. You've been very helpful to me today. Thank you." The barber told the younger man.

"Oh, it's no problem Mr. Todd. Anytime."

"Tell your mother I said thank you for all that she has offered and that I am very grateful."

"Oh, um. Yes. Of course." The younger man stuttered as he watched Sweeney playing with his razor behind his back.

The boy hastily made his way out of Todd's shop, as if shaken by something he had done. His heart raced and his legs shook as he sped down the stairs towards his mother. He burst into his mother's shop looking traumatised.

"Oh, there you are. Did you help Mr. Todd?" The baker asked her son.

"Yeah."

"What's the matter love? You look awfully pale."

"Mum, it's not funny. I'm always pale." Gerard replied, slightly irritated.

"Yeah, I know. But you look...Paler..." She informed the young man.

"That's alright. I'm fine. Really."

"You're not ill are ya?" Nellie asked.

"No. I feel perfectly fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah. Very sure."

Gerard tried to act as normally as he could so that his mother wouldn't suspect anything. She was however a little confused. What had gotten into him all of a sudden?

"Ya know, Mr. T does have a...An _odd_ personality. He can be a little hard to deal with sometimes." The baker spoke softly in order to soothe her son.

"It's alright mum. Trust me. It's not him. Anyway, I'm kinda tired, so...I'll be heading off to bed then."

"Alright, goodnight love. You've been a hardworking young lad today, get some rest." She said.

"Goodnight." Gerard yawned before leaving the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Gerard's eyes slowly fluttered open as he stretched, yawning before staring up at the ceiling for about five minutes. He suddenly heard his mother speaking to Sweeney in the kitchen;

"It's Thursday today. When Gerard gets his lazy bottom up and gets ready, we can head to the market." His mother spoke.

He rolled his eyes before listening to Todd speak.

"Why are we heading to the market specifically on a Thursday?"

"There's someone there every Thursday you might wanna meet."

"Who?" The barber asked curiously.

"You'll see."

"Mrs. Lovett." Sweeney spoke in a tone of warning.

Gerard slowly pushed the covers off of him before sitting up, rubbing his eyes in order to fully wake up. He sighed exasperatedly before standing up and slowly dragging his feet into the kitchen;

"Morning, love." His mother spoke softly.

"Good morning mother." Gerard smiled, turning to Mr. Todd. "Good morning Mr. Todd." He acknowledged him.

That earned him a surprised glare and then a simple nod of the head. _'Doesn't speak much at all.'_ He thought.

"Gerard dear, why don't you go get ready so that we can head down to the market, eh?" Nellie asked.

"Oh, alright."

Trudging back into his room, he changed into a white shirt, navy blue waistcoat, black pants and boots. He walked back into the kitchen and his mother smiled.

"Ready dearie?"

Gerard simply nodded.

"Alright, let's go." The baker ginned.

Mr. Todd waited until Gerard and Mrs. Lovett left the shop before following them. On their way to the market, Gerard only paid half attention to the barber and baker's conversation;

"He's here every Thursday. Italian. All the rage, he is. Best barber in London they say." His mother told the older man.

Sweeney glared at Mrs. Lovett.

"Pfft. If you ask me, he's the biggest and most annoying _fake_ Italian I have ever seen." Gerard muttered.

When they arrived, they waited for about two minutes before seeing the competing barber's servant boy up on stage, advertising some sort of ridiculous elixir. Through the crowd Sweeney could see Beadle Bamford making his way through the market. He reached for his razor sitting in the holster attached to his belt. The infuriated barber took a step forward but was stopped by Mrs. Lovett pulling him back by his leather jacket.

"Hang on." She said firmly, holding onto his heavy leather coat to prevent him from walking any further.

Sweeney slowly returned to his original standing spot, pulling his coat to cover the holster and razor. He once again paid attention to the boy up on the platform before speaking up to Mrs. Lovett rather loudly.

"Pardon me ma'am what's that awful stench?"

Nellie glanced at the barber before playing along.

"Are we standing near an open trench?"

The worker boy advertising gave them a look of annoyance before raising his voice and attempting to continue advertising over Mrs. Lovett's and Sweeney's comments.

"Wanna buy a bottle mister?" The boy almost shouted.

"What is this?" Todd and Lovett said together once they got their hands on a bottle of elixir.

"Smells like piss." Sweeney said, clearly disgusted by the way he pulled a disgusted face.

"Smells like...ew!" The baker muttered.

"Looks like piss...this is piss...piss with ink." Mr. Todd continued.

He handed the bottle back to the man who had given it to him and warned him to keep it off his boots, lest it eat through them.

"Get Pirelli's, use a bottle of it, ladies seem to love it-" The boy, Toby, was cut off by Mrs. Lovett.

"Flies do too!"

The crowd laughed before watching a man appear from the red curtains behind Toby. He looked ridiculous, he dressed ridiculously and spoke ridiculously.

"I am Adolfo Pirelli, the king of the barbers, the barber of kings, e buon giorno, good day. I blow you a kiss!" The man blew a kiss.

Gerard bit back a giggle as he glanced over at Mr. Todd who's facial expression gave away his thoughts of Pirelli. He looked incredulously confused. The competing barber continued;

"And I, the so famous Pirelli, I wish to know who has the nerve to say my elixir is piss! Who says this?" He asked, scanning the crowd.

The crowd went silent for a moment.

"I do. I'm Mr. Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street. I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's elixir and I say to you, that it is nothing but an arrant fraud concocted from piss and ink. Furthermore, Signor, I have serviced no kings, yet I wager than I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street mountebank." Mr. Todd said carelessly.

Gerard and his mother exchanged grins as the crowd erupted with mutters and mumbles of conversation.

"D'you see these razors?" Sweeney suddenly asked loudly, holding two up high for the people to see. "I lay them against five pound. You are no match sir. Either accept my challenge or reveal yourself as a sham." He said.

Gerard raised his eyebrows. Was Mr. Todd really willing to risk losing his friends?

"You hear this foolish man? Now please you will see how he will regret his folly." Pirelli said before taking his cape off and throwing it into the corner, calling Toby's name out so he would get the stage ready.

Gerard couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Who's for a free shave?" Sweeney asked with a confident smirk.

Men raised their hands and called out. Mr. Todd chose two and Gerard grinned.

 _'I guess he's fairly confident about this then. If he knew he was going to lose, he wouldn't have bet his razors.'_ Gerard thought.

He took Sweeney's leather jacket from him and held it in his arms neatly. Mr. Todd then made his way onto the stage, turning to face the crowd.

"Will Beadle Bamford be the judge?" He asked.

"Glad, as always to oblige my friends and neighbours." The Beadle replied in a sickly-sweet voice.

The pale barber forced a smile before rolling his eyes as he got ready for the contest which, judging from his behaviour, was not something he seemed to be nervous about.


	5. Chapter 5

The Beadle slowly made his way through the crowd before getting up onto the stage, turning to face Mr. Todd and Pirelli.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Ready." Pirelli replied, trying to sound confident.

There was a moment of silence where Mr. Todd glanced over at the Beadle before speaking up;

"Ready." He said softly.

"The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner." The Beadle announced before blowing his whistle.

Toby rushed over to Pirelli before holding a leather strap which he used to sharpen one of Todd's razors he was using. Toby hissed in pain as Pirelli glided the razor up and down the leather strap, purposely injuring Toby's fingers carelessly. Mr. Todd carefully sharpened his razor, gliding it up and down the leather strap he had ever so gently at a slow rate.

 _'Come on Mr. Todd. Victory won't be yours at that pace.'_ Gerard thought.

"Now signorine, signori we mix the lather but first you gather around signorine, signori you are looking a man who have had the glory to shave the Pope. Mr. Sweeney whoever, I beg your pardon; you'll probably say it was only a cardinal, nope! It was the Pope!" Pirelli began singing.

Rolling his eyes, Gerard paid more attention to Mr. Todd's gentle movements as he stared at his razor. _'Stop staring at your razor and get on with it!'_ Gerard thought. At this rate, it really did seem as though Sweeney was going to lose. Everyone doubted he would win, yet he remained calm and confident.

"The winner is Todd!" The Beadle suddenly proclaimed.

Both Mrs. Lovett and Gerard clapped proudly with many other members of the crowd, exchanging smiles as they watched Sweeney turn to Pirelli and smirk confidently. The Italian slowly approached him with a sour face as Todd placed his razor back in its proper place.

"Sir, I bow to a skill far greater than my own." Pirelli spoke, bowing in Mr. Todd's honour.

The older man was not facing him, as if not wanting to acknowledge the younger man.

"The five pound." The pale barber had raised his hand and moved his finger beckoning for Pirelli to hand the money.

Pirelli's expression went sour again as he reached for his purse, pulling out a note which he handed to Todd who shoved it into his pocket.

"May the good lord smile on you. Until we meet again. Come boy, come." He said turning to face Toby who was behind him before giving him a hard backhanded slap right across the face so that he would fall behind the curtain.

Mr. Todd chose to ignore this, collecting all his things before stepping off the stage and slowly making his way towards the baker and her son.

"Best barber in London? All the rage?" Gerard smirked. "Let's see his reputation now as the 'best barber in London'. All he is is the most annoying barber London has ever seen, not the best." Gerard said.

Mrs. Lovett shrugged before turning to Mr. Todd;

"I suppose it's just me gentle heart, but I do hate to see a boy treated like that." She said quietly, assisting Sweeney with putting his leather coat back on.

Just as he did, a random man from the audience approached him to speak.

"Congratulations Mr... Todd. May I ask you sir; do you have your own establishment?" He asked.

The pale barber looked a little worried as if he were scared of the man speaking to him. This made Gerard have to bite back another laugh.

"He certainty does. Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlour, above my Meat Pie Emporium in Fleet Street." Mrs. Lovett told the man.

Mr. Todd had completely lost interest in the conversation as he stared directly ahead of him. Looking around, Gerard noticed the Beadle standing there, slowly turning around as Mr. Todd approached him.

"I thank you sir. You are a paragon of integrity." Sweeney said in a normal, soft tone.

"Well, I try to do my best for my friends and neighbours. Your establishment is in Fleet Street you say?" The Beadle replied in his sickly-sweet voice.

Gerard felt like he was going to puke. _'What an annoying, sickening fat man.'_ He thought.

"Yes sir." The barber replied.

"Then Mr. Todd, you shall surely see me there before the week is out." Bamford grinned mischievously.

"You will be welcome Beadle Bamford. And I can guarantee to give you, without a penny's charge, the closest shave you will ever know." Todd assured.

The Beadle gave another grin of satisfaction and importance (not that he actually was important) before slowly turning and making his way away from the trio. Gerard followed his mother to Sweeney who was staring after the Beadle.

"Come on love." She said softly, patting him on the back to encourage him to walk.

Gerard was behind them, following them as they strolled back towards the Meat Pie Emporium.

Once they were back indoors Gerard stood beside his mother behind the counter assisting her in preparing more pies for the shop, not that there was any point seeing as no one comes in even to inhale. Sweeney was up in his shop, pacing as he always did. Gerard stared up at the ceiling, his eyes following Todd's footsteps.

"What's the matter love?" Mrs. Lovett asked.

"D'you think Mr. Todd likes Bamford?" Gerard asked absentmindedly.

"No, why?"

"Why was he offering him a close shave without a penny's charge then?" Gerard asked.

"Long story deary." Mrs. Lovett sighed exasperatedly.

Gerard gave his mother a glare before speaking up;

"Sometimes I could just strangle that man in front of all of London to see. They too would probably enjoy it." The boy said in frustration.

"Now, now deary, calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down when a pathetic fat man is always getting on my nerves? Plus he works for that bloody rapist, the Judge!" Lovett's son replied.

"Did someone say Judge?"

Gerard jumped slightly at the new voice coming from the doorway of the side door leading up to Todd's shop.

"And who exactly are we talking about?" The pale barber asked, sitting down at a table.

"That filthy rat Bamford. Bloody fat pig." Gerard replied in disgust.

"Gerard! What kind of language is that?!" Mrs. Lovett scolded him.

"I agree Gerard. He is probably the nastiest piece if work in London. Who am I fucking kidding, he's a rat, a fat piece of shit!" Sweeney agreed, not able to contain his anger.

"Now Mr. T! Isn't that a little too harsh?" Nellie asked.

Sweeney gave her a dark glare that made Mrs. Lovett visibly shudder.

"Now mum, who does that idiot work for?" Gerard slightly mocked.

The baker turned to look at her son and pondered for a moment;

"I'll tell you who he works for. He works for that son of a bitch otherwise called the 'Judge'." The older man pointed out.

When it came to Turpin, Sweeney really didn't consider or care to chose appropriate words.

"That he does. So I suppose you're right. But don't you ever think that maybe he's forced to do all that nasty stuff?" The woman asked.

"Mum, both Mr. Todd and I here know that you are a caring, loving woman. But when it comes to the Bea-"

"No sympathy! No understanding." Todd cut in.

Both the baker and her son stared at Mr. Todd for a brief moment until Gerard nodded in agreement.


End file.
